some parts of the Liverpool and Manchester railroad, the motion of the carriages is so slightly felt, that persons can read and write in them with the greatest facility. The following figure will, we hope, assist in explaining how it is that the sun appears to move among the fixed stars, whilst in reality that glorious body is as permanently fixed as they are.

The earth, at some particular time of the year, being in that part of its course denoted by A, the sun, s, will appear to be among the stars at A', since those stars will never be seen from the earth at night. As the earth proceeds in its orbit from A to B, the

S

sun will appear also to have moved from A' to B'. In three months more the earth will have passed from в to C, the sun will then appear to have passed from B' to c', and the stars at a', which, in the first instance, were invisible, will rise when the sun sets. Proceeding onwards in its course, the earth will pass, in succession, from c to D, and from D'to A, the sun, at the same time, appearing to move from c' to D' and from D' to a', thus completing the circuit of the heavens.

The other planets participate, in common with the earth, in the twofold motion already described. The nearer a body is to the sun, the greater the velocity with which it moves in its orbit. The diurnal motions of the planets are very dissimilar. Thus, the time occupied by the earth in making an entire revolution on its axis is 23 hours, 56 minutes, and 4 seconds, which, properly speaking, constitutes a day. Jupiter, which is more than twelve hundred times larger than our globe, performs its diurnal revolution in 9 hours, 55 minutes, and 33 seconds. The moon, (a secondary planet, or satellite,) on the contrary, moves so slowly on its axis, that it takes 27 days, 7 hours, 43 minutes, and 5 seconds, to perform one revolution. In the length of what we term a year, that is the time occupied in passing round the sun, there is a remarkable difference as respects different planets. This revolution is performed by

Mercury in 0 years, 87 days, 23 hours, 14 min., 33 sec.

by the following figure; the sun occupying a fixed point called one of the foci, as at s.

The moon is so intimately associated with us in all our movements, whether diurnal or annual, that it is, next to the sun, the most important of all celestial bodies; and this arises not only from its comparative proximity, its periodical brightness, and its continual changes; but also from its physical effects upon the tides of the ocean, and, as we have reasons for concluding, on the atmosphere which encompasses the earth. The mean distance of the moon from the earth; that is, according to the astronomical method of computation, from the centre of one body to the centre of the other, is about 237,000 (two hundred and thirty-seven thousand) miles. This, vast as it is, when viewed in connexion with distances upon our globe, is but "a day's journey," in comparison to the distance that the earth, and some of the other planets, are from the sun. A steam-carriage, on a rail-road, proceeding uninterruptedly at the rate of 25 miles per hour, would run 237,000 miles in 1 year, 4 weeks, and 2 days. This falls within the limits of our conception. We may imagine something analogous to this, supposing a carriage, or rather a succession of carriages, to be kept constantly at work for rather more than 2 years, and working 12 hours per day. But our powers of imagination fail us in estimating a distance equal to that of the earth from the sun, namely, ninety-five millions of miles. Our steam-carriage illustration is here no longer available, since it falls far beyond the boundaries of probability. Proceeding uninterruptedly at 25 miles per hour, it would require 433 years to move over a space equal to ninety-five millions of miles.

Assuming the mean distance that the moon is from the earth, (237,000 miles,) as a comparative standard in estimating the distances of the planets from the sun, we have the following results, namely, the mean distance from the sun to

PHENOMENON OF THE BLACK WATERS. IN the upper part of the region of this river, (the Oronoko, in South America) between the third and fourth north parallels (of latitude), nature has several times displayed the singular phenomenon which has been named black waters. The water of the Atabaco, Temi, Tuameni, and Guainia, is of a coffee-colour. Under the shade of the woods of the palm-tree, their colour becomes of a deep black, but, in transparent vessels, it becomes of a golden yellow colour; the images of the southern constellations are reflected in it with singular brilliancy. The absence of crocodiles, and of fish, a greater degree of coolness, a smaller number of musquitoes, and a healthier air, distinguish the region of the black rivers. They probably derive their colour from a solution of carburet of hydrogen, resulting from (the decomposition of) the multitudes of plants that cover the soil through which they flow.MALTE BRUN. O. N.

HE that waits for an opportunity to do much at once, may breathe out his life in idle wishes; and regret, in the last hour, his useless intentions, and barren zeal.-Idler

་

INSTANCE OF LONG ABSTINENCE. A YOUNG man, of a studious and melancholy turn of mind, troubled with some symptoms of indigestion and internal complaints, and aided, perhaps, by the strength of imagination, and by some mistaken notions about religion, resolved to cure himself by abstinence. He withdrew himself suddenly from his business and friends, took lodgings in an obscure street, and resolved to abstain from all solid food, and only to moisten his mouth from time to time with water, slightly flavoured with the juice of oranges. After three days abstinence, the craving for food subsided, and he pursued his studies without further inconvenience. He used no exercise, slept but little, and spent the greater part of the night in reading. The quantity of water used each day was from half a pint to a pint, and the juice only of two oranges, to flavour the water, served him a week. He persisted in his regimen for sixty days, without variation. During the last ten days of it, his strength failed rapidly; and, finding himself unable to rise from his bed, he began to be alarmed. He had hitherto flattered himself that his support was preternatural, and had indulged his imagination with the prospect of some great event, which he expected would follow this remarkable abstinence. But his delusion vanished, and he gradually found himself wasting, and sinking to the grave.

About this time, his friends found out his retreat, and prevailed upon him to admit the visit of a respectable clergyman, who convinced him of the fallacy of his visionary ideas; and succeeded, finally, in obtaining his consent to any plan that might be conducive to his recovery. Dr. Willan, a respectable physician, was then called in for advice, and visited him on the 23d of March, 1786, and on the sixty-first of his fast. The doctor found him reduced to the last stage of existence, and he states, that his whole appearance suggested the idea of a skeleton, prepared for drying the muscles upon it in their natural situation. His eyes were not deficient of lustre; his voice was sound and clear, notwithstanding his general weakness, but attended with great imbecility of mind." He had undertaken in his retirement to copy the Bible in short hand, which he showed the doctor; executed nearly as far as the second book of Kings: he had also made some improvements in short-hand writing. From the 23d to the 28th of March, he was so much recovered, under a proper regimen, that he could easily walk across the room; but on the 29th, he lost his recollection, and ultimately died on the 9th of April, nature being quite exhausted.

Dr. Willan believes that this young man's case of fasting is longer than any recorded in the annals of physic; and that he could scarcely have supported himself through it, except from an enthusiastic turn of mind, nearly bordering upon insanity, the effect of which, in fortifying the body against cold and hunger, is so well known..

THE intellectual powers of man are not given merely for self; they are not intended to aid his own cunning, and craft, and intrigues, and conspiracies, and enrichment. They will do nothing for these base purposes. The instinct of a tiger, a vulture, or a fox will do better. Genius and abilities are given as lamps to the world, not to self.-SIR EGERTON BRYDGES.

WHO is there that can afford to compare what he has done, with what it was once his ambition and his hope to do? Gray hairs bring with them little wisdom, if they do not bring this sense of humiliation.---SOUTHEY.

O YE, whom, struggling on life's craggy road,
With obstacles and dangers, secret foes
Supplant, false friends betray, disastrous rage
Of elements, of war, of civil broil

Brings down to Poverty's cold floor, while grief

Preys on the heart, and dims the sinking eye;

Faint not! There is, who rules the storm, whose hand
Feeds the young ravens, nor permits blind chance

To close one sparrow's flagging wing in death.
Trust in the Rock of Ages. Now, even now
He speaks, and all is calm. Or if, to prove
Your inmost soul, the hurricane still spread
Its licensed ravages, He whispers hope,
Earnest of comfort; and through blackest night
Bids keen-eyed Faith on heaven's pure sunshine
And learn the glories of her future home.--GISBORNE.

gaze,

MANNER OF MAKING PERSONS FREE AT ALNWICK, IN NORTHUMBERLAND.

THOSE who are to be made free, or, as the phrase is, leap the well, assemble in the market-place, very early in the morning, on the 25th of April, being St. Mark's day. They appear on horseback, dressed in white, with white nightcaps, and every man a sword by his side, attended by the four chamberlains, and the castle-bailiff, mounted and armed in the same manner. They then proceed, with music playing before them, to a large dirty pool, called Freeman's-Well, where they dismount, draw up in a body, then rush in all at once, and scramble through the mud as fast as they can. After this, they take a dram, put on dry clothes, remount their horses, gallop round the confines of the district, and then re-enter the town, sword in hand, and are met by women, dressed in ribands, with bells and garlands, dancing and singing. These are called Timberwastes. On this day, the houses of the new freemen are distinguished by a holly-bush, as a signal for their friends to come and make merry with them on their return.

This manner of making free is peculiar to Alnwick, according to a clause in the charter given them by King John, who, travelling this way, stuck fast in a hole, and thus punished the town, for neglecting to mend the roads.

THE CITY OF DORT, IN HOLLAND, PRESERVED BY MILKMAIDS.

DURING the wars in the Low Countries, the Spaniards intended to besiege the city of Dort, in Holland, and accordingly planted some thousands of soldiers in ambush, to be ready for the attack when opportunity might offer. On the confines of the city lived a rich farmer, who kept a number of cows in his grounds, to furnish the city with butter and milk. time, coming to milk their cows, saw under the hedges His milkmaids, at this the soldiers lying in ambush, but seemed to take no ing merrily. On coming to their master's house, they notice; and having milked their cows, went away singtold him what they had seen; who, astonished at the relation, took one of the maids with him to a burgomaster at Dort, who immediately sent a spy to ascertain the truta of the story. Finding the report correct, he began to ordered soldiers into the city, and commanded the river to prepare for safety, and instantly sent to the States, who part of the country under water where the besiegers lay in be let in by a certain sluice, which would instantly lay that ambush. This was forthwith done, and a great number of the Spaniards were drowned; the rest, being disappointed in their design, escaped, and the town was thus providentially saved. memory of the merry milkmaid's good service to the The States, to commemorate the country, ordered the farmer a large revenue for ever, to recompense him for the loss of his house, land, and cattle; and caused the coin of the city to have a milkmaid, milking a cow, to be engraven thereon, which is to be seen at this day, upon the Dort dollars, stivers, and doights; and similar figures were also set up on the water-gate of the Dort: and the milkmaid was allowed for her own life, and her heirs for ever, a very handsome annuity.

THE GYPSIES IN FRANCE.

By the Rev. EMILIEN B. D. FROSSARD, Protestant Chaplain

and Pasteur Catechiste at Nismes.

'THE Gypsies have borne a prominent part in the romantic literature of our age, and no one can forget Sir Walter Scott's great and mysterious character of Meg Merrilies. But what many people seem to forget, and some, perhaps, are really ignorant of, is the part which these wandering tribes still actually perform in real life. France has not escaped their incursions. They are often met with under the sidearches, of the bridges, in deserted Mayets*, and in every place where they can pitch their tents without being driven from it by suspicious owners. They may often be seen grouped round a fire in the open air, over which boils a kettle filled with bones and other scraps thrown away by the butchers, or snatched from the mouths of their dogs.

The men sleep all day, and roam about at night; the wretched ragged women beg, and the children amuse the passengers by clacking their teeth in cadence. All are distinguished by misery, by dirt t, and by a love of wandering. A copper-coloured skin, perfectly black hair, peculiar and marked features, proclaim them all to spring from a distant and foreign origin; they live without fire or fixed habitation, without faith or form of worship; their almost incomprehensible dialect seems a mixture of different languages, from which they have gleaned during their wanderings, and when the curious stranger questions them, they reply that their pilgrimage is not yet finished.

We have often heard of several savage virtues which distinguish the Gypsies; I much fear that these virtues exist only in the imaginations of novelists, and that if we follow these wandering tribes more closely, they will only afford us a sad spectacle of the lowest degradation. Nevertheless, they cannot have entirely escaped the influence of the law of conscience written in the hearts of all men; nor that of Christianity which surrounds and protects

them.

During several months, I observed a poor Gypsy woman who had fixed her abode at the foot of the rampart of the citadel of Nismes. Every time I went to the county gaol, in the exercise of my ministry, a little boy of seven years, old, who seemed to belong to her, endeavoured to attract my attention by his absurd contortions, and almost unintelligible language. The mother remained by her fire-side, half-extinguished, shivering with cold, half-naked, concealing so young an infant in a cloth, that it is most probable these ruins saw its birth.

This woman was still young, with all the characteristic features and dress of her race. Her husband, for it appears that notwithstanding the customs of this people, they were married, had been condemned to prison; she had followed him from a great distance on foot, spent with fatigue, carrying her eldest child

A kind of summer-house in the vineyards, to which the citizens of Nismes and other towns in the south of France, repair in the

summer on Sunday evenings, with their families; they are generally

painted green and yellow.

+ One striking exception to this general habit was exemplified in the case of a family, the mother of whom experienced a long and most suffering illness. She refused to leave the tent for a comfortable house, provided for her by some charitable friends, saying, that as she had never slept under a roof, she was convinced she should de of suffocation, if she tried the experiment. During several months which she lingered on, confined to her bed, the devoted attention of her family to her was exemplary, and the cleanliness and delicacy of their manners such as might have done honour to a palace. These particulars were related by the clergyman of the parish in which they had pitched their tent, who, with his sisters, were unwearied in their attendance on her, and also by the medical man who visited her.

In England, marriage is general among the Gypsies.

on her back, and she was come to live as near her husband, as walls and guards would allow her; there she waited, counting the days for his deliverance: she lived upon charity, and as soon as the compassionate stranger threw her some pence, she might be seen running with joy to the grating, entreating the porter to give the poor prisoner the scanty pittance of public charity. On the day of his liberation, several members of the tribe were seen coming joyfully to welcome their brother, and take his family far away, to seek a country where the laws were less strict, and men less vigilant.

Philanthropists of France, are you ignorant of the fact that ten thousand human creatures, vagrants and degraded, overrun the face of your country, and that in the midst of so many benevolent projects, so many schools and asylums supported by public charity, the Gypsies have hitherto been forgotten! These wandering tribes seem, it is true, to escape from our civilization; a horror of subjection and of labour is their ruling passion; but we must not allow ourselves to be discouraged by the idea, received before-hand, that all efforts are in vain. The task is a difficult one, but it is because it is difficult, that it is delightful, and the philanthropist has for his encouragement the establishments of Friedrichslohra, in Germany, and that of Southampton in England*, before his eyes.

In 1830, the Christians of Naumbourg, a little Prussian town in the vicinity of Friedrichslohra, sent thither Mr. Blankenbourg, with a mission to attempt the religious instruction of the Gypsies, and consequently their social and moral improve

ment.

Mr. Blankenbourg has fixed his residence, during the last three years, in the midst of these Parias of their confidence, because he had been represented to Europe. He had at first much difficulty in gaining their confidence, because he had been represented to them as charged by the Prussian government with the design of throwing them into a house of correction, where they would be obliged to work. They avoided him with care; the very children fled when they saw him approaching. But he at last succeeded in persuading the heads of them, that it was solely out of charity towards them that he had settled himself in their village. One of them burst into tears of joy on hearing this, and said that he had thought there was no longer any one in the world that loved them. They promised to induce their companions to listen to his advice, and they kept their word. Their chief continues to testify much friendship towards him; he is an old man, who well knows how to keep up order among his people.

Mr. Blankenbourg has provided work for the Gypsies, he employs them to dig ditches in the forest, which is a work that cannot be completed under two years. It would never have been possible to have made them undertake it by force; their friend's kindness to them, decided their acceptance of it, and every day fresh Gypsies arrive, asking for employment. Mr. Blankenbourg works with them, to encourage them by his example, as well as by his advice; this constant communication which he keeps up with them, makes it more casy for him to seize every opportunity of speaking to them of their eternal interests.

Mrs. Blankenbourg assists her husband with a charity that equals his own. She has already succeeded, by patient endeavours, in teaching twelve girls to knit. She dedicates a great part of her time to cutting out and making clothes for the children.

*See Saturday Magazine, Vol. I., p. 245.

The children live

A school has just been opened, by the efforts of this couple, for these poor little wretches, in a house which was bought in the village of Friedrichslohra, by means of a subscription. there; it would have been impossible, indeed, to have exercised any lasting influence over them, if they had returned every evening to their familes, I where they could only receive bad examples. They were often seen, during the first months, before the school-house was built, coming in the morning to beg for bread, their mothers having left them, without any food, to go out begging for the whole day. It was impossible to allow them to carry away their new clothes with them, as they would return the next day, filthy and covered with vermin. Their continual residence in the school-house, often remedies

these difficulties.

These are the beginnings of a work undertaken with a spirit of perseverance and charity; it will not be lost, we hope; and we shall esteem ourselves happy, if we have succeeded in exciting in the minds of our readers some feeling of compassion and pity for the poor Gypsies.

We borrow the following details from an excellent French periodical, Le Sémeur,-The SOWER.

This migratory population is known by the names of Bohémiens, or Egyptiens, in France; of Zigueners, in Germany; of Gypsies, in England; of Gitanos, in Spain; and of Zingari, in Italy. The origin of this people is involved in mystery. Mr. Balbi, in his Ethnographical Atlas, considers it as clearly demonstrated that they descend from the Zinganes of Sindy*, to whom belong the Indians known by the names of Bazigours, of Pantchipiri, and of Correwas. He thinks that about four centuries ago, they left the neighbourhood of the Delta of the Indus. Their idiom is subdivided, according to him, into several dialects, which differ much from each other, in consequence of the foreign words which they have borrowed from the languages of the people among whom they reside. Those It is a singular fact, that the cast in India from which the Gypsies are supposed originally to have emigrated, are in that country as completely different from any other natives, as the Gypsies are amongst ourselves; their wandering and predatory habits, and peculiar features, are precisely the same as those of the Gypsies, and differing completely from other Hindoos; they also follow in India, to a great extent, the trades of tinkering and begging. They are universal in Bengal, and speak an inflexion of Malay peculiar to themselves, which some few of the old Gypsies in England still retain, though hardly any of the younger ones understand it. The prevailing opinion in India as to their origin is, that they are one of the ten lost tribes of Israel. But there seems to be very little foundation for such a supposition,

of Italy and Spain seem to have forgotten their own language, and have formed for themselves a factitious one, called "Gerizonza," or "Ziriguenza," composed of some words which they have invented, and others which they have borrowed from the Spanish and Italian languages, but of which they have altered the meaning, and inverted the syllables, that it might be intelligible only to themselves.

It is calculated that there are more than 100,000 Gypsies dispersed over Europe; they are most numerous in Turkey, which 3000 are in Alsace. They have a sort of preference in Russia, and in Austria; there are 10,000 in France, of for animals who have died of disease, therefore they witness the arrival of an epidemic with pleasure.

The Gypsies seem indifferent to all religions; they change their modes of worship as often as they change their adoptive country, and several have been alternately circumcised among the Mohammedans, and baptized among Christians.

At the time of their first appearance in Europe, they gave themselves out to be Christians from Egypt, and related that their ancestors, not being willing to receive Jesus Christ, when he fled into Egypt with his parents, they had been condemned, for this sin, to seven years of a belief to this fable; they even obtained safe-conducts, and The ignorance of those times gained hood was discovered, and their conduct rendering them were received every where with hospitality. But the falseunworthy of the toleration which had at first been shown them, they were banished from most of the countries into which they had penetrated.

manded that they should be exterminated "with sword A regulation of the states of Orléans, in 1561, comand fire," if they did not quit the French dominions. It was ever found impossible to effect their complete expulsion. [Translated from a little work, published in Penny Numbers, at Nismes, in France.

CHEERFULNESS and a festival spirit fills the soul full of harmony; it composes music for churches and hearts; it makes and publishes glorifications of God, it produces thankfulness, and serves the ends of charity; and when the oil of gladness runs over, it makes bright and tall emissions of light and holy fires, reaching up to a cloud, and making joy round about: and therefore, since it is so innocent, and may be so pious, and full of holy advantage, whatsoever can innocently minister to this holy joy does set forward the work of religion and charity.-JEREMY

TAYLOR.